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Breaking Normal (Dream Weaver #3)

Page 10

by Su Williams


  Images of Ivy and her date, Glen, cavort in her mind. Images of them both, in their cosplays for the prom, tattered in ribbons and soaked in blood. They hang from rope over the venue stage, limp and gently swaying, skin white and spattered in crimson, as prom goers dance and party below them.

  “Thomas!” I seethed. “Leave her the hell alone! Mess with me, but leave her alone!” Thomas’ maniacal laughter echoed in my head and faded. Ivy slumped against the back of the couch. “Ives? Ivy? Are you okay?” Her eyes finally focused, but the terror in them wasn’t much better. “Baby? Are you okay?”

  “No…” she whimpered and threw herself into my arms. I cradled her, gently rocking and feeding her ‘happy puppy’ memories to calm her down. Just like Nick had done for me so many times.

  “What was that?” she finally asked.

  “That, was Thomas. The asshole Wraith I told you about. If I didn’t want to kill him before, now I want to do it twice—in two extraordinarily painful ways.”

  “Sweets?”

  “Yeah, Baby?”

  “Could you really kill someone?”

  I didn’t even need to think about it. Not with Thomas. “Absolutely. Especially him. He messes with you again, I’ll make him wish he died a long time ago.”

  We sat for the next hour, huddled on the couch with Eddyson between us. When Ivy fell asleep, I broadcast Eddy’s attack and Thomas’ visit to Nick and Sabre. Ha! Guess I finally decided on a better name for distance weaving. Of course, Nick had to come over to check on me, and startled me when he walked out of the kitchen.

  “Geez! Just phase in next time,” I scolded.

  “Yeah. With your friend in the house.”

  “She knows,” I told him.

  “She knows? What did you tell her? Why did you tell her?”

  I growled. I’d had enough of Adrian’s pissitude, I didn’t need it from Nick too. My heart ached too much after all that happened. Nick tiptoed to my side and sank to the floor.

  “Emi, honey. Are you okay?” His warm fingers caressed my arm.

  “No.” The roller coaster of the days emotions slammed me so hard, Ivy stirred against me.

  “Here. Lay her down. Come talk to me,” he murmured.

  I nodded as Nick worked his magic on Ivy to keep her asleep, then gingerly squeezed out from under her. Nick led me to the kitchen and opened his arms to me. I scowled. Like I can’t take care of myself! But the weight of the day’s trauma was churning up my insides. I fell against his chest and sobbed. His arms wrapped a shield around me. He released a deep sigh of satisfaction and held me until I was ready to support myself.

  Chapter 16 Rise Up with Fists

  Sabre, Nick and I holed up in the kitchen while Ivy snored softly on the couch. Nick sent her deep. She looked almost comatose.

  “You didn’t change her memories, did you?” I half-accused as I took another peek at her from the kitchen door.

  Nick closed his eyes to camouflage his frustration. I could see the strain of keeping his face nonchalant. “No, I didn’t. Not my call.”

  This time, I did feel a little bad for accusing him. But just a little. And I still couldn’t bring myself to apologize. I returned to my perch on the counter opposite where the guys stood, with my heels softly thumping a rhythm on the cabinet doors. Their faces were stoic, their eyes narrowed in thought. Apparently, the two of them had learned to broadcast on an exclusive bandwidth with each other and exclude me from their conversation. A shiver of anger crawled up my spine. More of their secrets? Nick gave a curt nod and turned his eyes on me.

  “We have a little problem, Em,” he said just above a whisper.

  “Oh? Just a little problem?” I could think of at least a dozen more that each measured far beyond ‘little’.

  His nostrils flared and he cast a glimpse at his friend. “Ivy isn’t safe…”

  “Look! I know her better than you. I trust her with my life…” I said as I hopped off the counter.

  Nick winced at the slight.

  “No, you look,” Sabre rumbled as he stormed away from the cabinets and stalked to me. He raised a finger to shake in my face. “This has nothing to do with whether or not your friend knows about us or not. It has to do with the fact that the Wraith knows about her. Thomas doesn’t care what she does and doesn’t know. All he cares about is the fact that she’s your friend and you love her. That makes her a target and he will use her to get to you. Do you understand?”

  Anger flared in my chest, but it was extinguished with fear of this man that walked the fine line between Caphar and Rephaim. I sidestepped him but he grabbed my arms and jerked me to face him. “Do. You. Understand?” Nick bolted away from the cabinets and hovered nearby seething.

  I wrenched myself free and glared at him. “Yeah. Sabre. I got it. I just made my best friend in the world a target for an immortal soul-sucking prig! Yeah! I think I got it! Thanks! Now, why don’t you two get the hell out of my house.”

  Nick looked wounded. “Emi, I think…”

  “I don’t really care what you think right now, Nick.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone…”

  I gave a derisive snort. “Yeah? Too late for that, ain’t it?”

  Nick’s mouth opened and closed like his last breath stole all of his thoughts. He pressed his lips closed between his teeth. His voice eked into my mind like the strains of a sorrowful song.

  I can’t—leave you. Not with Thomas so close.

  Well, have fun under the spruce all night then. I nodded toward the door.

  As you wish.

  I snarled at his disintegrating form.

  *

  It wasn’t until later, as I stroked Eddy’s fur that I pondered Nick’s last words. As you wish. The words held no animosity. And I remembered their origin—Wesley’s words to the Princess Buttercup in Princess Bride. He toiled and toiled, doing her every beck and call. His only response to her whims was ‘As you wish.’ I already knew what those words meant from Nick, but something was different this time. In my perception? Or Nick’s heart? Whichever the case, despite all my ire, all of my harsh words, all of my downright meanness to him—he was still telling me he loved me.

  Chapter 17 Hello Kitty

  I knew it was a bad idea when Ives told me she had to go home and water her plants. I knew. But she’d pled her case with such zeal. And who was I to keep her detained against her will? I’d argued, pleaded, begged for her to stay and wait until I could go with her, but the girl would not be denied. I really couldn’t blame her. There’s just something about being in your own home, with your own things, doing what you want to do. I knew she’d be a target for Thomas. A red, flaming target with neon arrows pointing her way for the Wraith to home in on. Geez, this guy needs to die! He was the final remnant of terror that needed to be extinguished so the rest of us could live in peace.

  I’d forgotten what that was like: normal. Everything in me screamed for a ordinary life, but even my prescient abilities couldn’t predict that anywhere in my future. Why couldn’t I get a cool super power like—turning back time? Quantum physicists believe that for every decision we make there are alternate realities for every potential outcome. Some days, I wished I lived in one of those other realities.

  With great reluctance, I said my goodbyes to Ivy and headed to a martial arts gym on the north side of town. As I entered the dojo, I was greeted by the low chime of a gong, and a dark haired young man in a crisp white gi with a black belt.

  “What may I do for you today, neko-chan?” he said with a bow.

  Neko-chan? Without hesitation, I delved into his head for the translation of the word. The best I could come up with was cute kitten. Yeah? I’ll show you cute kitten.

  “Well, I’d like to buy a pair of sai, if you have any.” I played a bit naïve, into his kitten perception of me.

  “And do you have any training, any experience with these weapons?” His voice was thick with a Japanese accent and I smiled at his precise pronunciations.


  “No…um should I call you sensei?”

  He smiled wide and bowed his head. “Yes. Sensei is teacher. I can teach you.”

  “Well, I’ve been doing a bit of studying and watching videos on how to use them, but I’m sure there’s a lot more to learn besides what’s on YouTube.”

  “Yes,” he frowned at the concept of martial arts training via the internet. “I do not have students at this time. I will give you basic lesson on their use.” With that, he slipped a pair of shiny new sai out the glass display case beside him and grabbed another pair from a desk behind it. He snapped off a dangling price tag and handed the weapons toward me.

  “Um, may I use yours?”

  He eyed me in thought, so I nudged his mind to cooperate with me. “Yes, of course, that will be fine.” And he handed me his memory-saturated sai, then stepped closer. “The sai was originally used in other Asian countries besides Japan, including India, Vietnam, and Malaysia. The sai is an offensive and defensive weapon used for striking and bludgeoning.”

  Ooo, I like the sound of that! Bludgeoning!

  As I received my history lesson, I printed the sensei’s memories from his weapon. I smiled and nodded along, thinking about how I would use his own moves to defeat him.

  “The shaft of the sai is called the Monouchi. As you see, this one is faceted, but many fighters prefer a round shaft. The prongs,” he said pointing, like I was a kindergartener, “are called Yoku. The handle is the Tsuka. Mine is wrapped with stingray leather.” I began to spin the sai in my hand like I’d seen the girl in the videos do it. Sensei smiled and I wasn’t sure if it was a condescending smile or a pleased one. “Finally, the tip of the sai is called the Saki. You will notice it is blunted rather than a sharp point.”

  “All the more to make the kill hurt,” I said darkly. His forehead crinkled in thought. Perhaps wondering if he ought to be teaching this to me at all.

  “Come. Let us use the practice mat. You must show me what you have learned already. Perhaps what I must un-teach you.”

  I gave another sly smile. Yes. Let us see how sharp this kitten’s claws really are. And what kind of master you really are.

  We squared off, both dropping into a mirrored stance. His eyes roamed my position and his brow wrinkled again as he saw himself reflected in my pose, right down to the tiny dip of my right knee. I held the sai parallel to my forearm, my fingers wrapped around the handle in just the way his printed memories showed me. He smiled as I twirled the sai in both hands from offensive to defensive positions and back again.

  “Now, you must block.” He brought his weapons up and launched a half-hearted series of thrusts and lunges. And I deflected every one.

  “Don’t hold back, Sensei. I can’t learn if we’re not doing this for real.” His attack accelerated but still I deflected him. Frustration crept over his face like a fog, and he stepped up his game until we were in full-on combat. Several minutes later, with both of us sweating and panting, he conceded with a bow. I bowed back. “Thank you, Sensei.” Bet you don’t think I’m a neko-chan now! Me-ow.

  The clatter of applause greeted us after a final respectful bow, from a group of students and parents that had drifted in while we were focused on fighting. With a bow to our audience, Sensei took my elbow and led me back to the display case.

  “I am amazed by your skill. May I ask, who was your sensei? This is not what you learn on the internet.”

  I flashed him a mischievous smile. “Just you, Sensei. You are obviously a well-versed fighter. Now, about the sai I want to buy.”

  “No,” he said sudden and stern, and I was afraid he wasn’t going to sell them to me at all. Maybe I’d dishonored him somehow. He held out his stingray leather sai in a soft chamois cloth. “I wish you to have these. A gift to an excellent warrior.”

  I really wanted his weapons, with all their imbedded memories, but I was prepared to pay for them—handsomely. “But I will pay you well for them.”

  “No. A weapon such as this in the hands of someone with your skill must be a gift. The spirit of the warrior dwells in his weapon. You cannot buy a weapon that holds this spirit. It must be a gift.”

  Yeah, if he only knew how right he is. “Then—I accept your gift.” Knowing he would refuse any offering I made, I eased into his mind to find something he needed—something I could give him that he couldn’t refuse. The image of a leaking, water-stained bathroom slipped through my mind. The dojo owner was slow to get it repaired. Two years slow. That would be my gift to him. I’d send repairmen over immediately to fix it. And while I was at it, I’d start a scholarship for low income kids to be able to come here and be trained by this master. We bowed our goodbyes and I scooped up the sai and pressed them to my chest as I walk out the door.

  *

  Sabre’s heavy bag was getting brutalized as I worked the sai and imagined the saki—the point—thrust through Thomas’ eye, through his brain and out the other side. Geez, not a little morbid there, are we, Em? But Nick had been right, back in the spring, when I’d argued with him about taking another life. I couldn’t afford to think of Thomas as anything more than the monster he was.

  Sabre worked on some gadget or another at his workbench, offering an approving grunt occasionally when he glanced up to follow my progress. Eddy was coiled in a tri-colored ball at his feet. Nick leaned against the garage watching me. His mouth lifted in a smile of appreciation. Sweat dripped from my forehead, and down my neck and back. It felt good to push my muscles into something new.

  “You should take a break,” Nick suggested from the doorway after an advanced drill I’d printed from the Sensei’s weapons. “Replenish the water you’re sweating out.”

  I flipped the sai one at a time parallel to my forearm and gave a final one-two strike with the blunt end of the handles, then whirled them around to holster them in my belt loops.

  “That’s very impressive,” Nick said as walked toward me and extended a bottle of water to me.

  “I had a great teacher. The Sensei was a double black belt and he gifted them to me. So all of his training, all of his maneuvers are embedded in them. He said that they had to be gifted from one warrior to another for the spirit of the weapon to work—like he knew about memoryprinting or something.”

  “Where did you go?” rumbled Sabre.

  “The dojo at the Y by the Bigfoot Tavern.”

  Nick smiled and Sabre nodded his head. “Aw,” said Sabre. “Michael is one of us. He probably sensed what you are.”

  “May I?” asked Nick.

  I eyed him, not sure I wanted to share my newfound toys. But if I could give the guys anything to help defeat this Wraith, I would. I crossed my arms and withdrew the sai, spun and hurled them into the heavy bag twenty feet away.

  “You’re freaking scary sometimes,” Nick said as he shoved off from Sabre’s workbench and strolled past me with a grin.

  You ought to know.

  Yes was his only response, but my heart felt the pain of his memories of me trying to skewer him with my shiny throwing knives.

  Nick?

  Yeah, honey.

  I’m sorry—for—ya know, for the thing—with the knives.

  The pain left his eyes, replaced by a twinkle of hope. I forgive you.

  Sabre made a hurling sound. “You two about done being all mushy? You’re making me sick.” Nick and I laughed together. A first in a long time.

  Nick had only been bludgeoning the bag for a couple of minutes when Eddyson shot to his feet from his doze in the corner and rumbled a warning. Nick tossed a sai to me and kept one for himself. Sabre drew a katan I hadn’t noticed before. Guess we’re all going martial arts now. But Thomas wasn’t interested in a face-to-face powwow. He only had a message for us:

  Ivy sat, gagged and bound to an old wooden chair in a dark empty space. Her sweet face was tear-stained, her shoulders hung limp and motionless.

  “No…” I gasped, even though I shouldn’t really have been surprised.

  A light flashed
on opposite my girl and my long-lost friend Jesse sat bound and gagged, his head lolling to his chest.

  “Jesse…” My throat squeezed closed around a scream.

  Images of Jesse bound to stakes in the ground with a hoard of spiders, bugs, rats and scavenging birds as they pecked at his flesh, tormented his mind. His screams tore my heart and stoked my rage. But Thomas wasn’t done. He stole the memory of Jesse as a child watching his father beat his mother to death. The scene played over and over and over again, more and more brutal each time, until Jesse collapsed into unconsciousness.

  “Stop. Stop. Just please…stop! They didn’t do anything to you. Take me. But leave them alone.” Nick slid closer to me, watching me, a scowl darkening his face.

  “I don’t want you,” Thomas said in an annoying sing song. “I want to torture you.” His laughter filled our minds and echoed away into silence until all we could hear was Eddy’s angry growls. I dropped the sai to the floor and slid down after it. I clutched my head and screamed into my knees.

  “Emi…” Nick’s voice and touch were as gentle as a kiss, but I startled and screeched, more in rage than fear. I batted his hand away, but he wouldn’t be deterred. So I fought and flailed until his arms constricted me and pressed me against his chest, where tears of rage scorched down my cheeks. “We’ll get ‘em back, Em.”

  “Before or after he drives them insane?” I countered. I knew he was trying to help, but a very real nightmare now held my two best friends for ransom. A ransom too costly not to pay.

  Chapter 18 Baby, Don’t Cry

  Sabre, Nick and I sat huddled over a map of the city at their kitchen table.

  “I need you to process the memory again. I can pick out latent memories Thomas didn’t intend to reveal that are attached to the memory of his visit.” Sabre’s voice was low and monotone, serious.

  “What are you talking about, Sabre? We don’t have that kind of ability,” Nick said.

 

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